Chapter 6 The Shadow of the Thorne

The heavy weight of the briefcase in Caleb’s hand felt like an anchor, grounding them in the reality of their success. Half a million dollars, untraceable and cold. As the elevator rose back to the ground floor of the Vane estate, the air began to warm, but the chill in Scarlett’s soul remained. She had pushed her spiritual limits to banish the Blood-Wraith, and her life-force felt like a guttering candle in a gale.

Caleb’s arm remained firmly around her waist, his body heat seeping through her leather jacket. He didn't speak, but the way his fingers dug into her hip told her everything. He was on high alert, his wolf senses prowling the corridors for any lingering threat.

"You're trembling," he murmured as the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.

"It’s just the aftereffect of the lightning," Scarlett lied, leaning her head against his shoulder for just a second. "Exorcism isn't exactly a spa treatment."

They stepped into the grand foyer, but they didn't find the butler waiting for them. Instead, standing by the obsidian fireplace was a man who looked like a polished, more lethal version of the Thorne bloodline. He was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his eyes a cold, calculating blue that held none of the warmth of a human soul.

Scarlett’s heart stopped. Julian Thorne. Her older brother in this life, and the man who, in the original novel, had orchestrated Caleb’s downfall to seize control of the Northern territories.

"Scarlett," Julian purred, his voice like silk over a razor blade. "I heard a rumor that my little sister had suddenly developed an interest in the Vane family’s 'pest control' problems. I didn't believe it until I saw the energy spike on the city's scanners."

Caleb shifted instantly. The briefcase hit the floor with a dull thud as he stepped in front of Scarlett, his shoulders squaring and a low, subsonic rumble starting deep in his chest. He didn't know who Julian was, but his body recognized the scent of the enemy. It was the scent of the man who had held the silver dagger while the curse was cast.

"Stay back, Caleb," Scarlett hissed, grabbing the hem of his shirt.

Julian’s eyes landed on Caleb, and for a fleeting second, a flicker of genuine shock crossed his face, followed by a dark, predatory amusement. "Well, well. I thought you’d disposed of that 'stray' days ago, Scarlett. I didn't realize you’d kept him as a pet. And a well-dressed one at that."

"He’s my bodyguard, Julian. Nothing more," Scarlett said, stepping out from behind Caleb, her hand still resting on his arm to keep him from lunging. "And what I do with my time—or my 'pets'—is no longer a concern of the Thorne family. I’ve officially cut ties."

Julian laughed, a dry, hollow sound. "Cut ties? You are a Thorne, Scarlett. You are a tool of the family, just like this beast once was. If Father finds out you’re harboring the very King he spent millions to de-throne, he won't just take your inheritance. He’ll take your head."

Caleb’s eyes flashed a blinding gold. The shadow of the Lycan King behind him surged, his spectral claws leaving gouges in the marble floor. "You speak of me as if I am a slave," Caleb growled, his voice dropping into that terrifying, tectonic register. "I do not know your name, man of silk and lies, but I know the smell of your fear."

Julian flinched, his hand instinctively going to the silver-tipped cane at his side. He realized then that the curse hadn't fully lobotomized the King; it had only buried him. "You’ve grown bold, beast. Perhaps the amnesia has made you forget what silver feels like against your throat."

"That’s enough!" Scarlett stepped between them, her fingers already tracing a barrier-sign in the air. "Julian, if you move that cane, I will burn this foyer to the ground. We are leaving. Now."

Julian looked at his sister as if seeing her for the first time. The weak, vapid girl he’d used as a pawn was gone. In her place stood a woman who radiated a sharp, ancient authority. "You're playing a dangerous game, Scarlett. You think you can tame a Lycan King with your little trinkets and charms? When his memory returns, he won't remember the girl who saved him. He’ll only remember the name Thorne. And he will destroy you first."

"I'll take my chances," Scarlett said, her voice like ice.

She grabbed Caleb’s hand, her fingers interlocking with his. To her surprise, his hand was shaking—not with fear, but with a repressed violence that threatened to shatter the room. As they walked past Julian and out into the night, Scarlett felt the gaze of her brother burning into her back like a brand.

They didn't stop until they reached the parked SUV two blocks away. Scarlett climbed into the driver's seat, her hands finally shaking so hard she could barely grip the steering wheel.

Caleb sat in the passenger seat, the briefcase of money at his feet, forgotten. He stared straight ahead, his breath coming in jagged hitches.

"Scarlett," he said softly, his voice trembling with a raw, agonizing confusion. "That man... when he looked at me, I felt a pain in my soul I cannot describe. Like a thousand silver needles piercing my brain."

Scarlett reached over, covering his hand with hers. "It was just his aura, Caleb. He’s a dark practitioner. He affects everyone that way."

Caleb turned his head, his golden eyes searching hers with a terrifying lucidity. "No. It was more than that. He knew me. And you... you knew him." He leaned in, his shadow looming over her in the cramped space of the car. "Tell me the truth, little witch. Am I the man he said I was? Am I the King he tried to destroy?"

Scarlett looked into the eyes of the man who would eventually be her executioner. The ninety-day clock was no longer ticking; it was screaming.

"You are whoever you choose to be right now," she whispered, her heart breaking even as she maintained the lie. "And right now, you are the only person I trust in this godforsaken city."